I wrote this in response to an in-class discussion on Shatranj Ke Khilari, which is Satyajit Ray's adaptation of Premchand's short story, "The Chess Players."
As we mentioned in class, Satyajit Ray modifies Premchand’s ending. In Ray’s, Mirza Sajjad Ali and Mir Raushan Ali do not even find the abandoned mosque. Instead, they end up in the empty home compound of a boy, who they have serve them food, paan, and hookah: wherever they go, the dynamics of servitude are reproduced. Their argument is not about chess, but rather comes from Mirza Sahib telling Mir Sahib that his wife is cheating on him; when Mir Sahib shoots Mirza Sahib, he misses. They continue playing chess and the credits roll. After our brief discussion in class I wanted to provide a little reading of these changes. In Premchand’s original version, the choice to place Mirza Sahib and Mir Sahib in the abandoned mosque is emblematic of a decadence and moral decay in Lucknowi society. The two aristocrats sequester themselves in a structure that was once a place of devotion and worship, but instead they drink and play with their toy armies while real armies march on their home. In Satyajit Ray’s version, the mosque never existed at all! Mir Sahib realizes his memory has failed him: there was no mosque there. However subtle Premchand’s gesture at a more temperate ancient past was, Satyajit Ray does away with it. The old site of devotion was never there at all.. Instead, he emphasizes that wherever these men go, society is structured in such a way that someone is serving them. Even when the whole place is abandoned, they are lucky enough that one boy stayed and that boy, in the absence of all remaining society, still reproduces the social relations of servitude at a time when such behavior feels absurd. The last difference is one that I initially did not like: I thought that Premchand’s ending resonated because it showed how his characters were entirely unwilling to lift a finger when it came to actual material threats, but when it came to the realm of their fictional little armies, they were willing to lose their lives. When I first watched Satyajit Ray’s adaptation, I thought his change diminished the potency of that message. Now I think that’s the point, though. Ray’s version of the aristocratic caricatures are comical in their impotence. They claim heritage from glorious warriors but the sight of Mir Sahib in front of a shield and swords is enough to send Mirza Sahib into a fit of laughter; everywhere they go, others do things for them; Ray goes out of his way to have Mirza Sahib run away from his wife’s sexual desires to continue playing chess. This is why his version Mir Sahib is annoyed about (true) accusations of his wife cheating on him, tries to shoot Mirza Sahib, misses, and then goes back to playing chess. Satyajit Ray’s critique is not of men who are willing to die over a simulation (or re-enactment) of politics while ignoring their current reality of politics — It is of men willing to die for their masculinity but who, because of a society that has catered to their every need, are so impotent that they (comically) fail at doing even that.